


don't you wanna see a man up close

by piipedreams



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Piercings, Smut, Tongue Piercings, and oliver makes good use of it, zeki got a tongue piercing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25929358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piipedreams/pseuds/piipedreams
Summary: "I’ve only had my hand for the past few months. I’m dying here, Ollie boy,” Zeki whined jokingly, and as Oliver turned around to finally get a good look at his face, he noticed something small and silver in his mouth.For a moment, he’d thought Zeki was eating something. Then he realized.“Did you get another piercing?”Or: Zeki gets a new piercing over the summer, and Oliver finds that he loves it.
Relationships: Zeki Durmaz/Oliver Walsh
Kudos: 4





	don't you wanna see a man up close

**Author's Note:**

> set right at the start of sophomore year
> 
> title is from bite by troye sivan

The summer break after Oliver’s first year at Ashburn was much needed. The stress of school, exy, the yakuza—for some fucked up reason that no one would ever be able to understand— was just getting to be too much for him. Going home was like a reprieve; a couple months to just forget about everything and pretend he was 15 again, taking his anger out on the empty exy court with Max.

Eventually, like all things must, the vacation came to an end. Saying goodbye to the Booths again sucked major ass, but this time, Oliver genuinely had something to look forward to.

Over the last couple months, he’d been using his phone way more often than usual. Normally, he’d forget it on his bedside table and then leave it there for days on end, not really giving a shit about his social media presence or whether or not people thought he’d died because he never responded to his messages, but this summer was different. Almost instantly after they’d gone their separate ways, Zeki and private messaged Oliver something about craving a lollipop, and they’d just… never stopped talking. Oliver spent many mornings tired out of his mind because he’d been up till 4 trying not to laugh at the stupid ass cat memes Zeki would send him out of nowhere—but despite the dangerous amounts of caffeine consumed the next day, Oliver found that he really fucking enjoyed this routine.

All this to say that, throughout the summer, Zeki had been teasing Oliver about some sort of ‘surprise’ he had planned. Oliver had forced enough hints out of him—he knew it wasn’t big, and it wasn’t something to do with lollipops, and that Zeki had wanted it for a long time. Oliver had a slight suspicion of what it was, but he didn’t want to ruin the surprise for himself. That, and the fact that Zeki threatened to never let him wear his hoodies ever again, and that just wouldn’t do.    
So, with all this in mind, arriving on campus after a good few months of being away felt extremely bittersweet. The memories associated with this place were so strong, but in so many different ways. Oliver decided to ignore everything and make a beeline to Walker Hall so that just like this time last year, he could flop onto his bed and relax after the long ass day he’d had. Unfortunately, it seemed fate had other plans.

Oliver had arrived early this year, hoping to get some time to adjust to college life before the rest of his team arrived. Last year had been chaotic; everything happened so quickly, so some time to adjust was much appreciated. But, for reasons the universe must have thought were hilarious, Zeki had had the same idea. 

Upon entering their dorm, Oliver was immediately assaulted by the smell of coffee and burnt toast. He wrinkled his nose, shutting the door just as a small  _ oof _ came from the kitchenette. A flash of bright blue hair peaked into the entryway.

Zeki’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Oliver! Shit, I had no idea you’d be here so early,” he said, talking animatedly. “If I’d known I would’ve tried making something more interesting than coffee and toast. Actually, I would have fucked that up. You’re lucky. Why didn’t you text me?”

The sudden flurry of words directed at Oliver made him feel both out of place and right at home. “I didn’t realize anyone else would be coming this early.” he shrugged, voice scratchy from disuse. He’d barely said a word all day; the exhaustion from the trip to Ashburn accompanied by the dull pain of missing his family had rendered him mute for the day, communicating mostly with nods and shrugs. 

“Oh. My bad. I should’ve told you,” Zeki laughed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked a bit tanner now—though Oliver had known that from all the Snapchats he’d sent after harassing Oliver into downloading the app.

Oliver cracked a small, fond smile. Being around Zeki just had that effect on him. He’d softened up quite a bit over the last year. “You know I don’t mind.”

Zeki responded with a wide grin of his own. “Yeah, I’ll bet you don’t.” As they often did around Oliver, his eyes turned dark and playful, brows wiggling suggestively. 

“Jesus  _ Christ _ , you’re horny.” Oliver rolled his eyes and moved further into the common room, pushing past a mirthful Zeki. He set his bags down in front of Room 1, deciding to stay out here a bit longer instead of walking in and flopping onto his bed. 

“Can you blame me? I’ve only had my hand for the past few months. I’m dying here, Ollie boy,” Zeki whined jokingly, and as Oliver turned around to finally get a good look at his face, he noticed something small and silver in his mouth. 

For a moment, he’d thought Zeki was eating something. Then he realized. 

“Did you get another piercing?”

Zeki’s eyes widened, a smirk slowly making its way onto his lips. “Damn, you caught me. That was the surprise,” he said, sighing dramatically as he flopped down onto the sofa. “You’re too smart for your own good, Ollie boy.”

“I have eyes.” Oliver retorted, following Zeki to the couch. He bit his lip absentmindedly. “Can I see?”

Luckily, Zeki didn’t make any crude remarks. He simply nodded—shit-eating smile secured in place—as he pulled Oliver down to sit on the sofa beside him. He stuck his tongue out, and…  _ wow.  _ Fuck. 

“Fuck.” 

Zeki laughed. “Like it?”

Oliver didn’t respond, instead opting to grab at Zeki’s jaw, thumb playing at his bottom lip. “Did it hurt?”

“Like a bitch. Not during the actual piercing part, but  _ shit,  _ did it hurt during the first few weeks. I thought I’d gotten an infection or some shit. But it was fine. I got it at the beginning of the break, so it’s had plenty of time to heal.”

Oliver hummed. He had no idea how or why Zeki enjoyed putting holes in his body, but it was hot as hell, so he wasn’t going to question it. 

They spent a few moments in silence; Zeki relaxed against the arm of the sofa, Oliver poking around at his mouth and tongue curiously. At one point, it seemed Zeki had gotten bored with the quiet, judging by how his lips closed over Oliver’s probing thumb, sucking just slightly. It made his insides feel hot and heavy.

“I missed you,” Oliver mumbled, the words tumbling out without any thought beforehand. He almost felt embarrassed, like he’d been caught red-handed doing something he wasn’t supposed to, if not for the way Zeki’s lips curled into a smile and his eyes crinkled in the corners happily.

“Did you, now?” Zeki asked, huffing out a small laugh. He leaned a bit into Oliver’s hand, which remained on his cheek. He hadn’t noticed it was still there, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to move it now.

“Fuck off. Don’t think I forgot about all those times you texted me at 3 am about how you missed me so much.”

“I wasn’t lying,” Zeki shrugged, “Things got lonely really quickly.” he said, eyes becoming a little duller, sadder. Fortunately, because Oliver wasn’t in the right headspace to deal with a breakdown right now, Zeki bounced right back. “Y’know, I don’t think I can ever go back to having just my hand. You’ve ruined me, Ollie boy.”

“Have you always been this dramatic?”

“You love it.” Zeki was leaning in. 

“Doubtful.” Oliver closed the distance eagerly. He hadn’t realized how touch-starved he’d been the past summer, but being with Zeki again after months made him realize how much he’d gotten used to the constant touching and kissing. 

Their lips moved together with practised ease; they’d done this so many times before, it was practically second nature at this point. The push and pull, the teasing tongues, the bruised lips; it was all something Oliver hadn’t realized how much he’d yearned for until now. The kiss was slow and soft at first, the two of them expressing to each other what they couldn’t and wouldn’t say with words, before it slowly deepened into something more lustful, more passionate, a direct response to the months of being unable to touch like this. It felt so  _ right,  _ like two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly. And as soon as Zeki slipped his tongue into the mix, Oliver knew he was done for. 

“Shit,” he gasped, peeling himself away for just a moment. “The—The piercing.”

“Knew you’d like it.” Zeki looked smug. The bastard. 

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Not at all, babe. Can we get back to making out? I’m so fucking deprived, you have no i—”

Oliver cut Zeki off by smashing their mouths together once again, more aggressive and needy than the last kiss. Their teeth clacked together at first, but quickly slipped back into the coordinated slide of lips and tongues. 

“Mmfh,” Zeki huffed into the kiss, “Eager.” His claim was softened by his own display of enthusiasm: the way he slowly began climbing over Oliver, hands positioned on either side of his hips as he began trailing open-mouthed kisses up and down his long neck. Oliver had half a mind to worry about what the others would think of the hickeys, but honestly, he couldn’t give less of a shit in the moment. His head dropped down against the cushions, allowing for more throat access. 

“This is so much better than sexting,” Zeki said between kisses, hot breath fanning against Oliver’s skin. “Christ, the amount of times I wished you’d just pop into my bed next to me so I could kiss you again. Kinda feel like I’m dreaming right now.”

“You talk too much,” Oliver commented, pulling him back up and kissing him once more, unable to stay away. His hand rested on the back of Zeki’s neck, near the tattoo. He could feel Zeki smile against his lips, and it made his heart feel all fluttery.

“You don’t like it?” hummed Zeki, moving to lick a thick strip up Oliver’s neck, making him shiver. “I thought you liked it when I told you how bad I want you; how bad I need to touch you. How much I love your lips, and—fuck—your neck too. Don’t even get me started on your dick.” As he said that, one of his hands travelled southside to palm at Oliver’s crotch. “Thought you liked that.”

Oliver didn’t respond. Not with words, anyway. His breath caught, making Zeki smile his stupid shit-eating smile. 

Zeki took this as permission to slowly move down, kneeling in front of the sofa, hands at Oliver’s zipper. They didn’t need words anymore; Zeki gave one look to Oliver and he nodded with no hesitance, spreading his legs just a bit wider for easy access. He’d missed this.

As he often did, Zeki wasted no time at all in unzipping Oliver’s pants and taking him into his mouth with all the eagerness of a kid in a candy store. Though they’d done this many times before, it never failed to bring out the dirtiest noises from deep in Oliver’s throat. And this time, with the cold, sharp metal of the piercing, it felt like the first time all over again. 

The piercing didn’t make a world of a difference—it wasn’t suddenly an earth-shattering, reality-shifting experience. But  _ Christ,  _ did it feel good. Maybe it was just the fact that it’d been months since his last sexual encounter, or the sheer enthusiasm Zeki possessed, or something else, but whatever it was, it brought out broken moans and curses from Oliver’s mouth, filthy and loud in the quietness of the dorm. 

His hands grappled at every available surface; the sofa, Zeki’s hair, the wall. It wasn’t long before the steady bobbing and licking brought him to a climax, unable to move Zeki out of the way before he came, hot and heavy. 

Zeki, like the sexy fucking idiot he was, swallowed it just fine. It seemed that the months of abstinence hadn’t deterred him one bit. He pulled off with an obscene  _ pop  _ sound and grinned cheekily up at Oliver, who, red-faced and panting, was unable to make eye contact.

“I sucked the soul outta you, didn’t I? You look fuckin’  _ spent. _ ” Zeki teased, voice hoarse and raspy.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Oliver huffed, exasperated, although Zeki was completely right. He finally looked back after tucking himself back in. “Get back up here.”

“Don’t need to ask me twice,” Zeki responded quickly, hopping back up on the couch next to Oliver. The tent in his pants was hard to ignore. So much so that almost as soon as he noticed it, Oliver’s hand went straight to begin palming at it, coaxing out a small whine from Zeki.

“I was kinda worried I’d get blue balled there, for a sec.” Zeki hummed, a hand slipping effortlessly into the mess of hair atop Oliver’s head, curling the strands between his fingers mindlessly.

“Still could.” Oliver kept at his slow hand motions, fingers crawling up to the button and zipper. Zeki apparently couldn’t wait any longer, and undid them much faster himself, leaving Oliver to pull him out with ease. He brought his palm up to his mouth, making eye contact as he coated it with spit for a smoother slide.

As his hand went back down, slick with spit and moving at a torturously slow pace, Zeki breathed out a shaky laugh. “You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Fuck no.”

With a small smirk, Oliver’s head went down, tentatively lapping at the tip, bringing out a surprised,  _ “Oh, shit!” _ from Zeki. 

He didn’t often give blowjobs—it was usually Zeki who would drop down to his knees first, but when he did, the noises Zeki made were so incredibly obscene and sexy, it made the unavoidable soreness of his throat more than worth it. What he couldn’t reach with his mouth he used his hand to satisfy, licking up and down and drawing out every single possible moan and whine from Zeki’s crude mouth. He cursed repeatedly, mostly in Turkish, and a few times even moaned Oliver’s name. For some reason unbeknownst to him, that turned him on way more than any of the other vulgar sounds. 

“Shit, you’re so good,  _ you’re so good—”  _ groaned Zeki, along with a string of curses in both English and Turkish.

With his head in Zeki’s lap, Oliver knew they would be completely vulnerable if any of their teammates chose this moment to walk in. The thought was sobering, reminding him that they were technically in public and this was definitely indecent—but before he could do or say anything about it, Zeki pulled at his hair sharply, muttering something in broken English about being close.

Oliver definitely wasn’t one to swallow, at least not just yet, considering his limited sexual history. He pulled off, pumping Zeki a few more times before he hit his high with a curse, hips jerking erratically. He came all over Oliver’s hand. It was hot as fuck.

Zeki immediately deflated against the sofa, looking just as spent as Oliver felt. A few moments later, the sounds of their pants the only noise in the dorm, his head rolled over to look at Oliver with dazed eyes. And though Oliver usually didn’t swallow, he made a show of licking his hand clean and trying to not gag at the taste. 

“Shit, Ollie. You’re gonna turn me on again. You tryna kill me?”

Oliver just shrugged, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table to wipe off the excess. He heard Zeki zip himself back up and cleared his throat a bit, the inevitable soreness that accompanied such…  _ activities _ making itself known. 

As they settled back onto the sofa, exhausted and satisfied, Oliver pulled out his phone. He quickly typed out a text to the team’s group chat, pressing send and hearing Zeki’s phone buzz in his pocket.

**Me** _ {sent at 4:19 pm} _ **:** When are all of you getting here

The answers were either, “tomorrow,” or “in a couple days,” so it seemed, without a doubt, that the two of them had the dorm to themselves for the rest of the day. The thought sent a thrill throughout his body. 

Zeki looked up from where he’d been watching the texts flood in, a grin on his face. Oliver found that he really wanted to kiss it. Again. (After they’d both brushed their teeth.)

“We have the rest of the day to ourselves,” Oliver stated, anticipation thrumming through his veins. 

“You wanna see what else this tongue can do?”

_ “Fuck yeah.” _


End file.
